


An Eye for An Eye

by c0cunt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Eye Gouging, Eye Trauma, M/M, only a little cannibalism, reincarnation gone wrong, undead characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco's revenge, gone just as Hanji knew it would.</p><p>Sequel to A Little Piece Of Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Eye for An Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverMyFreckledBody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/gifts).



> This is mostly based on a nightmare I had after doing a lot of research for A Little Piece Of Heaven. PLEASE take the warnings seriously.

   It was strange, getting reacquainted with my body once again.  After being a...Ghost?  A wispy bit of soul?  I’m not sure what it was I had been, but returning to my body was the strangest experience I’ve felt before.  At least part of the deal had worked properly.  Hanji had said that the second part might not work right, but...I didn’t care.  I wanted revenge.  How could someone who claimed to love me do that to me?  Hanji had tried to explain, but I wouldn’t hear it.  Jean was a murdering monster, and if Hanji wanted me to manipulate him into murdering even more, then who was I to complain when I would get to destroy him first?

 

   The first thing I really realized was...I could only see through one eye.  I tried to remember if he’d done anything to my eye while I was bleeding out, but all I remembered was Jean trying to hold me down and whisper that he would keep me perfect forever...I shivered slightly at the memory, and tried to look around in the gloom of our...His bedroom.  It hadn’t been our bedroom for...A week?  I’m not entirely sure.  But I could hear Jean humming in the kitchen, so I at least knew I’d be able to get his attention easily.

 

    I tried standing slowly, and felt a rush of excitement when I was easily able to get out of my old chair, even as disused muscles protested quietly at me.  I dragged my feet over to the light switch by the door, and it was only after I flicked the light on that I was really able to take a good look of our...His bedroom.  I’m not sure how I felt about it being mostly the same as before I had passed, until my eye fell on the jar now sitting on the edge of his bedside table.  And made eye contact with my other eye.  I couldn’t stay silent then, letting out a little shout for Jean even when logic reminded me that it was he who had done this to me.

 

    When Jean skidded into the room, face alight with joy, anger started to overwhelm me.  How could this murderer, this monster, be so happy?  Even as I dragged him out of our...His bedroom, he was overflowing with happiness like backed up toilet.  It was disgusting.  But even as I just wanted to get his death over with, the sight of a small ring box stopped me in my tracks.  My jaw dropped as it finally clicked into place why Jean had been reluctant to let me drag him out of our...His...Our bedroom.

 

    I shook my head slightly as Jean hurried to snatch up the box, mumbling under his breath, as I caught sight of the large knife I remembered him using exclusively to cut out large fatty pieces from our meat.  I couldn’t let the sentimentality that still clung stuck around in my mind distract me from what I needed to do.  He had murdered me...And I was going to-

   “Will you marry me?”  Jean’s squeaked question snapped me back into reality, and it took a second for me to catch my bearings.  But I couldn’t help the absolute giddy feeling that overcame me when I realized what he’d asked me.  It was something I had dreamed about when I was alive, the two of us living happily together for decades to come, maybe with a dog or even kids...It wasn’t possible now, but for a second I let my emotions rule me.

 

    So of course I said yes.  Of course I said yes, but that he had to die first.  Jean wasn’t even all that concerned, nodding excitedly like I had said only if we had a short engagement or something similar.  As he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned up for a kiss, I felt a pang of regret (I wonder if he had any regret for what he’d done to me…), even as I slashed at his throat.  He grinned at me when I pulled away, and it was terrifying watching the light die from his eyes.  My perfect Jean…

 

* * *

 

   I wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to fully die and return.  Would I be here waiting on him for a week?  Longer?  Or would he come back immediately?  Hanji hadn’t said it was going to work either way...To keep myself from panicking, I went about cleaning up the wound I’d given Jean, trying to ignore just how gross it really was.  He’d probably lost enough blood, right?  He didn’t have a heartbeat anymore at least, so it was only a matter of time now.  The timer on our oven chimed eventually, and I automatically went to see what Jean had made, laughing when I realized it was a recipe I had begged him ages ago to attempt to make.  Of course, the stubborn mule would only try something new after I was dead…

 

    The waiting was making me anxious.  I never liked waiting, and Hanji had spent a lot of time trying to get me to be patient when I was with them.  I looked closely at the eye patch Jean had attempted to slip onto me, a little startled by just how realistic it looked...Almost like the real eye he had in a jar by the bed.  I slid it on, even though it was mostly to give other people comfort than for me to really be concerned about the slightly empty feeling on the left side of my head...To distract myself, I went ahead and tugged the simple ring out of the box.  The thick silver band had a tiny diamond (or cubic zirconium, more likely) laid into the band itself.  It slid easily onto my finger, and the weight felt more reassuring than anything that’d happened in the last few hours would ever be.  

 

    I heard Jean’s voice rumble from where I had left him, on the other side of the kitchen.  I grinned at him, glad that I hadn’t accidentally injured his voice box.  He was the one who knew more about the human body than I did.  I think it was easy to know that I thought the ring was perfect, so perfect, perfect like Jean…

    I blinked, and for the first time really wondered what Hanji had done to make my revenge possible.  I know they had mentioned something about taking a part of him...I wasn’t sure what that meant, but instead focused on the more important thing:  Hanji wanted to meet us in Vegas.  There was a reason for that, but I couldn’t remember that either.  Even as I urged Jean to go grab his things so we could get going, I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something very important…

 

* * *

 

   I’m not sure how long I was driving before Jean demanded I let him drive, but it was far enough away from our old apartment that I didn’t worry too much to make a pit stop for us to switch.  I hated driving, and technically I didn’t really know exactly where I was going (maybe I should have looked up directions while waiting for Jean to wake up)...But Jean’s GPS was working, though I don’t know how I knew an address that was actually in Vegas; it probably was something Hanji had told me before returning me to my body.  At least I hope so...Either way, I explained a little bit of what was going to happen to Jean, but he didn’t seem to care.  He would just reach across the small space between us to caress my hand, and he would let out a happy squeal when I would grip his hand back.  It was kind of cute, to be quite honest.  But I was glad no one was really looking hard at us, as Jean hadn’t changed out of his blood soaked clothes, and if a normal person were to get concerned...Well, Hanji said they would get us out of trouble no matter what, if we did as they asked.

 

    It was going to take us at least twenty hours to get to Vegas, so I guess the good part of being undead was technically not needing to sleep.  The scenery was kind of boring, but I wasn’t really able to look at Jean directly without turning my head.  I did spend a lot of time staring at him though.  He was just as gorgeous as I remembered him, even with what would eventually become a scar decorating his neck.  I still...I still loved him.  Love him.  I still have that emotion.  Maybe...This could work…

 

* * *

 

   I knew I had forgotten something.  At least Hanji was kind enough to remind me of it out of earshot from Jean, as we were leaving their headquarters.  “Don’t forget, you have to eat a bit of his flesh to keep him alive,” they had said casually, though their eyes betrayed just how excited they were as they continued, “Or he’ll start rotting, and that gets really gross.  Though I’ve never tested how long someone could last in their body when it’s ro-”

   “Okay Hanji!” I loudly cut them off, shivering slightly at the imagery their words had conjured up.  Jean looked over at us from where he was chatting with Reiner and Bertholdt, two of Hanji’s more human looking experiments. He grinned and waved at us, and before I could stop myself I was waving back as well.  Hanji chuckled slightly and patted my arm, before whispering “you got two days to do that before he starts rotting” and walking away.

 

    Our hotel room had been squared away by Hanji (the place was apparently owned by one of their old friends), and it felt good to finally be able to hide away from everyone.  Especially after Hanji’s tests...Which they hadn’t subjected Jean to.  Maybe they had realized I hadn’t done the...Eating thing yet.  I shooed Jean into the bathroom to finally wash off all of the blood (he only relented when I kissed him a few times), while I thought about how to go about asking to eat some of him.  Just thinking that gave me the chills.  I had only done a lap of the room, still in thought, by the time Jean emerged from the bathroom, eyes narrowed as he still knew exactly when I’d been thinking too much about something...

 

    “Jean,” I started, trying to figure out how I was going to explain it to him.  How the fuck do you tell someone that you need to eat a part of them?  Jean looked up at me, absolute adoration on his face, and I couldn’t help but sigh.  Somehow, he was still in love with me, even after I killed him, met with our new very strange boss who needed us to murder for them, and dragged him across the country to a dingy motel in Vegas.  An idea struck me as Jean molded himself to my side, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.

 

   “Jean, baby...I want us to match.”  I said firmly, stroking the right side of his face.  For a second, Jean didn’t seem to understand, but when I gently stroked his eyelid, his face lit up once again.  He hopped away for a second, mumbling about making an eye patch for himself, even as he gathered up several instruments that must’ve come from his old job.  I hadn’t even noticed that he’d packed those with us, but I almost felt calm knowing that neither of us would have to attempt to steal...At least, not yet.

 

    “We’ll make a perfect matching pair!” I laughed, seconds before his lips crashed into mine.  I smiled into the kiss, pulling him closer just because I really missed us being together.  He mumbled something about procedures and how to remove an eye properly against my lips, but I didn’t take any notice of it.  With one last quick smooch, I untangled us and insisted that it was my turn to shower.  Knowing my luck, it’d be a fast, cold shower.  Jean always did use up a lot of hot water…

 

* * *

 

   I came out of the surprisingly warm shower feeling absolutely ready to conquer the world with Jean.  Hanji had mentioned that sometimes it becomes harder to distinguish the temperature of the world around you in a (technically) dead body, so I was still betting that Jean had used up all the hot water.  Not like it really mattered, but it kind of warmed my heart thinking that Jean had maybe not used up all the hot water so I could have a comfortable shower.  He always seemed able to sense when I needed a warm shower to myself, and I was holding out this little bit of hope until proven otherwise.  After a little searching around, I realized I didn’t actually have a towel, at the same time I heard a loud, painful sounding whimper.  Alarmed, I hurried out of the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t slip.

 

    Jean was laughing softly by the time I had rushed out of the bathroom.  Snatching up the towel he had discarded earlier, I wrapped it around my hips as I hurried over.  Jean turned to me with the largest grin I’d ever seen on his face, and I recoiled slightly in shock when I realized that he had scooped his right eye out.  That must’ve been what I’d heard while in the shower.  Fascination and concern mingled, as I knelt in front of him by the bed.  Laughing a bit more now, Jean lifted up the glorified spoon that his eyeball was now resting on.  The sight of it made me almost sick, but at the same time...Hungry.  I had to tear my eye off of it, only to meet Jean’s, who was obviously hiding his pain under more concern for me.

 

    “Marco, baby, did it hurt a lot when I did it to you?”  He asked, voice trembling as he tried to stop his shaking hands.  I hesitated, not wanting to tell him that I wasn’t even in my body the entire time...I guess Jean took my silence as confirmation, though, as he soon was curled around me like a koala, unconcerned with getting his clothes wet on my damp body.  I zeroed in on where he had placed the spoon with his eye…

   “Baby, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you at all!”  He whined, clutching me tighter.  I could feel tears start to dampen my shoulder even more, but all of that had faded away a bit…

 

    Without really thinking, I leaned forward to pick up the eyeball, vaguely hearing Jean’s voice buzzing in my ear.  It felt slimy and gross, and I immediately wanted to just drop it.  I almost did, but then I realized I could really get a close look at Jean’s eye.  I leaned back slightly, holding it up to the light, mildly curious on if it would really look that much different in the scant minutes since it had been attached to his body.  Jean was silent now, loosening his grip on my body so he could see what I was staring at.  Not wanting to overthink what I had to do, I opened my mouth, and dropped his eye, gagging slightly as I tried to swallow it down without chewing.

 

    “Marco!” Jean yelped.  I’m not sure if he was shocked, horrified, or something else, but I couldn’t help laughing, even as he made an indignant noise at me.  I focused back on him, grinning widely at the mixture of surprise and happiness on his face.

    “I’ll explain in the morning, baby,” I smiled, kissing anywhere on his face I could reach.  I could feel Jean smiling as well, and I soon lifted him up by the hips to slide him onto the bed.  I was so tired, but god I just wanted to stay awake with my perfect Jean…

   “You better sweetheart…” Jean mumbled sleepily into my lips, as he twisted his way out of the clothes he had thrown on after his shower.  I yawned widely, pressing my mouth against his neck to muffle it.  Jean tried to curl his body even closer, running his hands through my hair and across my chest and anywhere else he could reach.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Goodnight, my sweet, perfect angel.”

 

 


End file.
